the butterfly mansion is quiet at night.

most of the lights have been put out. the halls are dim, the paper lanterns outside casting soft shapes across the floor. somewhere deeper in the estate someone is walking, but the sound fades quickly.

outside, the garden is almost still.

tomioka-san sits on the wooden engawa with his back straight and his legs folded neatly beneath him.

his sword rests beside him. the bandage around his forearm has come loose again.

he has been staring at the garden for several minutes without moving.

the door behind him slides open.

“…tomioka-san.”

iguro-san’s voice is low, edged with quiet irritation.

tomioka turns slightly.

“iguro-san.”

kaburamaru lifts his head from iguro’s shoulders, tongue flicking once in the lantern light.

iguro steps outside and closes the door behind him.

he notices the bandage immediately.

“…you tied that poorly.”

tomioka looks down at his arm like he hadn’t been aware of it.

“…ah.”

iguro kneels beside him without asking.

his hands move carefully, undoing the loose cloth.

for a moment neither of them speaks.

the garden smells faintly like damp earth and night flowers.

iguro pulls the bandage tighter this time, his fingers precise.

“you reopened the wound.”

“…did i.”

“yes.”

tomioka watches his hands.

they’re steady. practiced.

kaburamaru slithers slowly down iguro’s arm and coils loosely around tomioka’s wrist like it belongs there.

tomioka doesn’t move.

after a moment he says,

“…kaburamaru seems well tonight.”